


Tech Booth Love

by sunflowerwithfeelings



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, BBC, Fluff, Gay, High School, Johnlock - Freeform, Love, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Technical theatre, Theatre, personal horror stories tbh, tech is weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8006068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerwithfeelings/pseuds/sunflowerwithfeelings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John couldn't care less about the theatre department at his high school. He couldn't sing, couldn't dance, and had trouble memorizing lines. Throughout the four years, he's tried his best to stay away from the Fine Arts Hallway as much as possible, which proves to be difficult. For soccer, his coach starts requiring players to stay after school to avoid any failing players. John gets put into technical theatre 1 and isn't able to complain. </p><p>Sherlock basically lived in the tech shop. He stuffed as many theatre classes as he possibly could into his schedule throughout his entire high school career. He was in the tech booth one day, and noticed a certain blond athlete walking through the stage doors. </p><p> </p><p>This year was about to get interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I put the Glossary at the beginning so you could scan over it and already have an idea of what the words mean verses flipping back n forth.

Actor: A person playing a role onstage within a play, musical, or story.

Black Box: A large square room with (sometimes if not all the time black) walls and a flat floor with excess curtain strung around the walls. Rarely has windows and can get extremely dark with no lights on. Used for actors to be in before/after performances or can be used as a nap room. bless.

Black Out: Complete absence of stage lighting. Blue working lights, most common model being the gooseneck light, backstage (usually with the Stage Manager and Assistant Stage Manager) should remain on and are not usually under the control of the board. Only exception is during a Dead Blackout (DBO), when there is no light.

Blocking: The movement of an actor(s) onstage at any given time. Choreography, steps, or actions specifically directed for the actor(s) to do.

Catwalk: A narrow piece of metal grating about two feet wide that runs 30-60 feet above the actual stage. Ladders are placed on either side and a rail runs along the side so no one falls.

Clearance: Message passed to Stage Manager from the Front of House Manager (sometimes booth) that the house is ready for the performance to begin.

Cue: A command given to the tech departments or actors to carry out a certain operation. Any signal (line, action or count) that indicates when another action should follow. This includes lights, sound effects, actors coming out onto stage, or actors saying/doing something.

Curtain Call: At the end of a performance, the acknowledgement of applause by actors. Aka, the bows.

House: Another word for auditorium. The place in the theatre to which the audience sits and watches.

Light Plot: The process of recording each lighting effect either onto paper or into the memory of a computerised lighting board for subsequent playback.

PAC: Stands for Performing Arts Center. This is usually the auditorium in every school with a stage and seats.

Preset: Anything in position before the beginning of a scene or act (i.e. Props placed on stage before the performance, or lighting state on stage as the audience is entering.)

Set: The complete stage setting for a scene or act. Usually built by the tech team and can sometimes break off into various pieces. Most of the time, the set changes with every new act or scene.

Shin Buster: Lighting instruments placed at the sides of the stage at or near floor level. Mounted on (normally) wood to support it, the light is shin height. If you're ever walking in the dark and don't know where you're shins are, walking smack into one of these is great.

Stage Manager: Lead techie normally on headset talking to the director or tech booth. While the show is running, Stage Manager makes sure the actors are prepared and calls cues for lights or set. Manages stage-hands as well as crew and actors.

Spike: To mark the position of an item of set/furniture on stage during rehearsal time.

Spike Tape: AKA thin gaffers tape, but sometimes other weaker tape (e.g. masking tape) is used on precious floors or surfaces. Sometimes, any securing of a cable to the floor is also known as 'Spiking'. Where precision is required during blackouts, Glow Tape is often used to spike positions.

Tech Booth: Usually placed in the back of the theatre and contains the lights and sound boards responsible for running the show. Mostly known as the "Control Room". Sometimes surrounded with thick sheets of glass with a giant window cut out to hear from. Depending on the auditorium, the tech booth can sometimes only hold up to four-six people.

Technical theatre: This refers to the side of theatre that is not acting, but creating. It encompasses all that goes into making a staged production. All areas of this work together to establish a setting, time period, and mood for a production.

Techies: Short for Technicians. Anyone who is not an actor or playing a roll onstage for the audience and instead is behind the scenes, working the show. Techies jobs range from set-building, prop making, lights, sound, and managing.

Tech week: Actual hell.

Wings: Any stage's curtains. Could be referred to as the 'right' or 'left' wings depending on which side of the stage you are on.


	2. Introduction

"You gonna bribe Mrs. Hudson into making you Stage Manager again?"

"You're damn right I am," Molly said as she turned the leather wheel in a counter-clockwise motion. The car came to a complete stop and the two got out.

"Just don't hurt the actors too much," Sherlock said stuffing his hands into his grey sweatpants.

"Same to you! If you blind them or, god-forbid, build a wobbly set, you're in for it." Molly shot back.

"The tech one classes will be building sets this year. I will be sitting in the booth messing with lights while you bark orders." Sherlock grinned.

"I do not bark-"

"Suuureeee." Sherlock said, opening the wide glass doors for both of them.

The pair waited in the lines to fill out their names, pay any overdue fines, and finally, receive their schedule. They both onced over their pink papers, making sure they got the classes they wanted.

"Government? Why would they put me in government?" Sherlock asked.

"Maybe it'll help you, or could just be a blow off class. Who knows? I mean I got some forensic science class I didn't choose. The luck of the draw," Molly answered.

The pair didn't have the need to go and see where their classes were since they'd walked the school and all its back hallways for four years. They were just making their way back to the front when they heard some commotion coming from the schedule pick up line.

"I can't believe I got Theatre?! Out of any blow-off class they had to put me in, they put me in Theatre! Unbelievable."

Sherlock whipped his head around to see who'd just called his passion a 'blow-off class'. He wasn't surprised with what he saw. A short, blond boy decorated with a soccer varsity letterman-jacket held the pink paper like it was laced with the plague. His friend standing besides him nodded in agreement but went back to looking at his schedule. Sherlock scoffed only loud enough for him and Molly to hear and kept walking. He knew not everyone appreciated the amazingness that was the Theatre Program but there was no need to take a scene. Knowing how the athletes went, the blond senior would demand to get switched out the first day and get put into a different class.

Sherlock and Molly pushed passed the glass doors and made their way back to Molly's car. Sherlock was soon dropped off at his home, his parents still at work. His brother, Mycroft, had moved out a few years ago and went to do some job Sherlock wasn't interested in.

He flopped onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. His phone buzzed from inside his pocket and he sighed, too lazy to get it out. After deciding that the spinning fan was just too boring, he dug out his phone.

_J-hnw liked your post._

'Oh okay,' Sherlock though. 'Nothing new.'

_J-hnw starting following you._

'Cool,' Sherlock thought.

He unlocked his phone and opened the app. Using the back of his thumb, he scrolled through the blog that has followed him. Most of it consisted of memes or text posts. Sherlock smiled in approval and decided to follow back. He questioned why a blog like this would follow a blog like his. Sherlock took time perfecting his blog, which is to say he updated it all the time. He took pride in his aesthetically pleasing blog, as it perfectly reflected what he wanted his personality to be: calm.

Being a techie for three years, you learn on day one: calmness is just a facade, a lie. If techies stay calm, everything is fine even when it's not. If techies start to panic, you run. However, Sherlock has had enough screws drilled into his hand and been electrocuted enough times to learn how to 'act' calm.

The boy rolled onto his stomach and set down his phone. He picked up a book sitting on his nightstand and opened it up to the page it'd been held on. He hopped off of his plush bedding and moved about the house with the book held close to his face. He meandered downstairs and made himself some coffee.

Now holding the hot beverage in one hand and his book in the other, he moved about the house, making sure not to bump into any walls. This was Sherlock's happy place, a mind palace he liked to call it. Him, alone in an empty house, with nothing but peace and quiet. This was a luxury he'd discovered he had midway through Sophomore year, when Mycroft had officially moved out.

Sherlock was no longer paying attention to the words his eyes floated over. His mind was wondering through its very own nooks and crannies, letting Sherlock think outside of the pages in front of him. He thought about where he'd possibly go to college, where he'd move to (for the thousandth time), and finally his mind landed on the boy in the varsity jacket. Sherlock guessed he was an extrovert, probably with lots of friends, or else he wouldn't of been that loud when receiving his schedule. He also concluded that the boy was probably a goalie since they seemed the be fairly popular in the sport. Sherlock also wondered why he even was deducing this boy in the first place. Why had this mind gone there?

It's not like the boy held any significance in Sherlock's life before; why bring him in now?


	3. Home Sweet Home

Technical theatre, along with musical theatre, was always at the end of the day. Sherlock walked from the third floor to the first and around to the PAC. As he veered the corner to the theatre doors and tech shop, he spotted Molly busy chatting away with stage-hands from previous years.

"Already Stage Manager?" Sherlock asked, pretending to be shocked.

"Yes actually. Mrs. Hudson said she'd let me have it since I'm a senior and also we have a bunch of first time techies in need of guiding!" She piped enthusiastically.

"Yeah-have fun with that!" Sherlock said bouncing into the tech shop.

Mr. Scott, the tech teacher, was inside a small room built into the side of the shop. Inside hung drills, tape measures, screws, staple guns, and most tools the crew needed to use. He was grabbing a bucket of Phillip's head screws when Sherlock popped his head in.

"Light plot?"

Mr. Scott turned his head and let out a huge sigh. "Oh thank god you're here, I need someone to help me set up for tech 1." The teacher dumped the two buckets into Sherlock's arms. Sherlock wobbled over to the work tables and set them down with a thud. He went back and grabbed a couple drills and safety goggles for the class. The teacher relaxed his shoulders and patted him on the back. "Thank you."

"Light plot?" Sherlock asked again.

"Light plot!" Mr. Scott said quickly going through a garage door and into his side classroom. He brought out a couple pieces of paper and handed them over to Sherlock with a  smile. He turned on his heels and started to walk out when the teacher called out, "Oh! I need you to help me just for the first 10ish minutes of class."

Sherlock sighed, he didn't see himself as a mentor. He also didn't like teaching the newbies; he usually left that to Molly. He saw the underclassmen pour into Mr. Scott's room right as the bell rang so he figured while the teacher was giving the first day speech, he could put his things in the tech booth. He walked passed Molly, now on headset blabbering to Mrs. Hudson. Twisting between the red seats of the PAC, he jumped through the small window and into the booth. He flicked the lights on and set his backpack down in the sound persons chair. He leaned back in his swivel chair and took in his favorite view. A darkened theatre, with only a couple lights shining down on the stage.

The way theatre worked here was you auditioned for the musical before the year let out. Over the summer, the teachers cast rolls and you started memorizing your lines. When you came back to school that very next year, you were put in the class and started blocking immediately.

The musical theatre class starting walking down the stairs connecting the auditorium floor to the stage. They set their bags down, some waving to Sherlock, and began to chat amongst themselves. The boy reached over and grabbed the light plot Mr. Scott had drafted. Of course, nothing in here was set in stone, not until they started blocking, but it was an outline to say the least. Sherlock glanced at the clock and rolled his eyes, he knew he couldn't let Mr. Scott handle those buffoons by himself. He got up and slid back across the window ledge, hopping down and going back the way he came.

He walked in through the tech shop because he decided the classroom door was just too far away. Most openings to the shop where black metal garage doors, extending all the way to the ceiling. Sherlock stepped through the one that connected Mr. Scotts classroom to the shop and scanned the rows of new techies. He recognized some of the students, some being juniors just a year below him. Then his eyes landed on a familiar blond boy, leaning back in his seat obviously not having any of it.

"Ah, class? This is Sherlock. He's one, if not the best technician I have. He'll be helping us in today's first lesson because I know it can be scary sometimes dealing with equipment you've never used before in your life." Mr. Scott said smiling at Sherlock then back at the class.

Sherlock could easily pick out the people who wanted to be here from the people who didn't. He was once in their shoes before, he knew how it felt. Sherlock waved at the class then asked Mr. Scott, "What _are_ they doing?"

"Cut their own chunk of wood with the compound Milter saw, then drilling."

Sherlock nodded his head and walked into the shop, stuffing his ID into his pocket. The class soon followed, most standing around like they didn't know what to do with themselves. They boy, who he now knew as John, hung around the back, completely uninterested in everything. He had his hands stuffed into his varsity jacket as his eyes wondered about the shops walls decorated with previous years props. Mr. Scott pointed the class' attention to a saw being held up by a metal stand. It grasped a thick, circular blade with a dark plastic guard around it. On the bottom was a ruler to dictate if you wanted the wood cut at a certain angle. The teacher demonstrated how to use it, Sherlock following after. One by one, students took their turn to walk up and cut their own piece. John was the last by choice. He meandered up to the front but before he could get to the saw, Sherlock's arms stopped at Johns chest, blocking his path.

"Jacket and ID off. And put these on," He said handing John the goggles he had on previously.

John looked at him in anger and confusion. "Why?!" He demanded.

"Safety first, unless you don't mind losing your arm or head and blinding yourself." Sherlock said with a straight face.

Giggles erupted from the group standing behind the two. John scoffed and slide off his jacket and ID, making Sherlock hold both of them. He propped the glasses into his face and Sherlock let him continue his way to the machinery. Mr. Scott guided John through the process as the rest watched. John cut his piece just fine and tried to grab his stuff back from Sherlock.

"Drill first, then you can have these." Sherlock said tightening his grip on the articles.

John rolled his eyes and insisted on going first. He had a little trouble pulling the screw out because he hadn't turned the drill on reverse. Sherlock smiled, thinking back to all the times he's made the same error. When John had a freshly cut block with a hole in it from the screw, he turned and joined the group, completely forgetting about what Sherlock possessed. Sherlock wavered to the back of the group and set Johns stuff in the chair he was sitting in. He let the class carry on without him and he slinked back to the theatre.

When Sherlock arrived back at the booth, he noticed a black haired boy toying with the sound board.

"Hey Sherlock!" He chirped, looking up from the dials.

"Hey Lestrade," Sherlock said.

Lestrade was in the schools JROTC program and so instead of going by his first name, he wanted people to call him by his last name. That way there was no confusion when switching classes. The two of them got along just fine except when tech week hits. However, during that time, everyone hates each other. The rest of the block, the boys chatted about their summer, the plans for the musical, and about how it was only the first day and Molly was already arguing with Mrs. Hudson.

"Honestly, if she keeps talking like this I won't be surprised if Mrs. Hudson kicks her out." Lestrade said chuckling.

"I really should of hit the microphone when you said that," Sherlock grinned.

"I would actually have to kill you."

"Right after Molly kills you," Sherlock said.

Lestrade smiled but nodded in agreement.

-

The first day was over and all Sherlock could think about was how John acted in the tech 1 class. The way he pretended to hate everything it stood for but seconds later, find it interesting. Sherlock smiled to himself as he pulled into the driveway of his home. His parents were gone and didn't come home till much later in the day. Even with this freedom, Sherlock figured he'd might as well start on the homework for Calculus. He didn't mind having work already but he was just extremely lazy. He knew he couldn't be that way when college hit, but for now he told himself he'd be fine.

His laptop awoke from its electronic slumber and allowed Sherlock to open a Google Chrome tab. He typed in the website he was asked to go to but soon found himself scrolling through his blog. The blog that had followed him just yesterday had started to almost spam him with likes, either on purpose or unintentionally. He continued to scroll through when a message appeared in his inbox.

_J-hnw: Hey_

Sherlock got excited. Sure, he received questions all the time dealing with theatre, but this looked like a genuine conversation.

_**Hello**_ , Sherlock replied back.

_I just assume from your blog that you're very into theatre, do you have any pointers for someone just starting?_

_**Yes! Don't be afraid to try new things. Also don't be afraid to ask for help. Many people get very intimated by things they've never experienced before but don't let it stop you.** _

_Wow, that's very inspiring._

_**I try :)** _

_Well thank you for that advice. I just started a theatre class today and I think I might actually like it but idk yet._

_**Theatre has always been a passion of mine. The first day I walked into tech I knew that that is what I wanted to do tbh.** _

The blog didn't reply back so Sherlock clicked back to his dash and started to reblog posts. He reblogged something relatable about being gay because that was indeed his sexuality. The blog who he'd been talking to reblogged that same post.

**_You're gay?_ **

_Naw, bisexual._

_**Ah okay** _

Sherlock figured he'd better get to doing his homework. He didn't want to start out the year failing and be unable to work the upcoming musical. Clicking over to the original tab, he grabbed a pencil and paper and began his tedious work.


	4. A Reason To Stay

Mr. Scott decided to guide the tech 1 class around the stage, explaining where everything was. Sherlock was busy scribbling over the teacher notes about lighting and texting Sally, the head person in charge of costumes. She had told him they were planning on getting one of the leads best friends a pink dress. Well, doing lights, you can't have someone wearing pink be under an orange light because it looks horrible. Mr. Scott had planned for mostly orange during a couple scenes, so Sherlock sat back and waited for the confirmation.

He could hear some tech 1 people mummer about him from all the way on stage. He pretended not to hear them and busied himself with simply seeing if the front row of lights worked. Sherlock decided that still too many people were in the auditorium for him to start doing anything impressive. Eventually, most of them made their way out of the side stage doors and back into Mr. Scotts classroom.

Sherlock had noticed while doing plots that there was a light Mr. Scott had wrote down that was not currently hanging. He got out his phone and made a note to at least hang it the very next day. Sherlock wrote down the numbered light on the back of his hand with a spare pen and turned around and exited the booth properly this time, through the door. On his way to Mr. Scotts room he had to pass through the tech shop and from what he could hear, someone was in it. He braced himself as he turned the corner and surprisingly saw John, trying to drill a screw into a corner piece of wood. Sherlock compiled a list of reasons as to why this wasn't working for John. He quietly walked up behind him and watched him drill it in. Sherlock smiled to himself and made some noise so John new he was there.

"You're drill is in reverse," He said.

John stepped back and looked at the notches. He let out a sigh and switched it into its normal drilling gear. Sherlock also got a good look at the head of the screw, it was totally stripped. Instead of a 'plus sign', it was starting to look like a circle.

"This is totally stripped," He said grabbing the screw and going into the little room to the side. "We're in desperate need of screws lately, but Mrs. Hudson's head is up in the clouds."

John relaxed his shoulders and brought the drill to his side. Sherlock came out with a new screw, one that wasn't as stripped.

"Thanks," John said, turning a little pink.

"No problem," Sherlock said as he watched John put it in.

The wood was being a little stubborn and started to crack as it was being drilled into, but he got it in there. Sherlock left John to put in the two other screws he was assigned to and went into Mr. Scotts room.

"Yeah, that light is in the spare room, we didn't move them from last year." Mr. Scott said after Sherlock had informed him of the problem. The teacher slid the keys to the room across his desk and over to Sherlock.

When Sherlock got there, he opened the door and was met face-to-face with huge black boxes on wheels. He pulled the end handle of one of them, and was quickly reminded of how heavy they were. Sherlock realized he couldn't to do this on his own but he didn't want to bother Mr. Scott. He figured he could borrow John, he looked strong enough.

Sherlock popped his head into the shop and there was John, still struggling with the third screw.

"You wanna help me with something real quick?" Sherlock asked the aggravated blond.

"Does it involve screws?" He huffed.

"No but I do need a someone with muscles on them," Sherlock said smirking.

John quickly set the drill on top of the hollow and sideless box he was drilling into and joined Sherlock. The boys went back down the hallway and Sherlock showed John what he needed to move.

"You pull this front handle while I hold open the door and pull the back of it towards you." Sherlock said as he propped one door wide with his foot. John nodded and wrapped his hand against the metal handle. The boys heaved on the count of three and slide the first box out perfectly.

"This all?" John asked setting his hands in his hip.

"No that's not the right light," Sherlock said gesturing over to the light they pulled. He pointed to the very back of the room, "The one I need is back there."

John sighed, "Why is this so much work?"

"Because that's what makes it fun!" Sherlock said diving into the dark room filled with cases.

Sherlock and John pushed and pulled on case after case until they finally found the one they were looking for. They pulled it out and carefully placed the rest back inside the room for now. John pushed the light from the back while Sherlock pulled along the side of it. They wheeled it into the theatre and set it behind the wings of stage right for Sherlock to deal with later.

"Wait so what class are you in?" John asked.

"I'm in Tech 2, as well as Lestrade. Which is this class but, instead of working in the shop, I'm in the booth."

"Oh, so that's why I never see you in the class." John said.

"Yeah, I mean they mix the tech 1's and 2's together. I just gotta show Scott I'm here and I go right to the theatre." Sherlock gestured to the back where his beloved light board sat.

"This is all so confusing, I don't know how you keep up with this stuff. Lights, equipment, and how to use all the boards." John pointed to the Stage Managers control panel at the front of the backstage area, "And that just looks like a mess."

"Yeah, luckily I don't have to deal with that." Sherlock laughed.

In the midst of the boys chatter, the bell rang and all the students from musical theatre and tech class flooded the hallways to leave for the day. John turned a little pink and waited till the hallways cleared so he could go and grab his stuff. Sherlock and him ended up walking down the same hallway to go to their cars.

"Oh shoot! I have practice today," John said freezing and starting to walk backwards.

"Oh okay, see you tomorrow then!" Sherlock called out.

"See you tomorrow!"

-

J, as Sherlock liked to call his new internet friend, hadn't been online yet. Which was perfectly fine with Sherlock, people had lives. It wasn't until later on in the evening that Sherlock got a message.

_Hey_

**Hey  
how's theatre been?**

_Great actually  
I just met this really cute guy in my class_

_**You should go for it** _

_Mmm idk if he's gay_

**_Did I stutter?_ **

_U rite u rite_

Sherlock continued the conversation, not wanting to have it end. He liked talking to people online since sometimes he couldn't do that in person. People often couldn't understand where he was going with things and he ended up tripping over his own tongue sometimes. Which is why he was so sure that the government class he was placed in wasn't going to work out at all. Somehow it was though. It was probably his second favorite class, theatre tech being his first.

When the conversation eventually stopped, Sherlock decided to wonder around his mind palace for a bit. Before doing homework, Sherlock wanted his 'me time' as he called it. All the way up to junior year, all his 'me time' consisted of nothing but naps. The American School System was a very draining one. However, since staying after school for theatre rehearsals, Sherlock didn't have time for naps unless it was specifically because Scott said he was overworking himself. On some days, Scott would let his techies use the black box as a nap room if they were driving themselves in too hard.

Sherlock's thoughts bounced from theatre and school, to other things like why John turned a little pink every time they made any sort of contact. He was for sure that John was straight, he'd had a girlfriend. Mary? Was that her name? Maybe, that's just what he'd heard from Lestrade. So the crush theory went out the window.

What could it be?

-

"So I heard your in theatre, don't go gay on us Watson." Anderson said from the other side of the locker-room.

John furrowed his brows as he faced his locker, but didn't dare make any attempt to sound mad. "No way dude, it's just a blow off class."

"Well don't be blowing anyone in there," Anderson joked, getting a roar of laughter from his teammates.

John pretended to laugh as his teammates looked at him to see his reaction. He stuffed his things into his locker and tried to look as unsuspicious as possible when he left. His coach was coming around the corner and if John hadn't been paying attention, he could of trampled right over him.

"Hey, before you go I wanna tell you that we're going to have to start taking mandatory after school study hours. Starting next week, any classes you need to go to tutoring for, you go to."

John sighed.

"It's not my policy, it's the schools. At the end of your hours, make the teacher sigh this-" His coach handed him a piece of paper with a graph on it. "If you aren't completing your hours, you don't get to play."

John wasn't up to protest so he folded the paper and put it into a pocket on the side of his bag. He pulled out his phone and started to rant to one of his best friends, then quickly deleted the message before sending because he knew they really wouldn't care. Instead he opened up a different app and started messaging someone.

_Just had the worst thing happen_

It didn't take long for him to get a response.

**_Why??_ **

_My coach just told me I need extra credit hours in order to play! I have more important things to do other than sit in a classroom for another hour or so._

_**You could always stop by your schools theatre room. I'm sure they'll have something going on.** _

_Yeah u rite but still it sucks_

_**Definitely.** _


	5. Welcome To Tech

When John went to school the next week, he couldn't help but wonder what class he'd be staying after for. He would rather go home and sleep till it was time to do homework, but between practice and now this, that wasn't a luxury he got. He thought he'd follow his internet friends advice and decided to ask Mr. Scott about times.

"Rehearsals are every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday after school. From 4-8."

'Great,' John thought.

That left him busy every single day of the week. Soccer practice ran every morning before school and Tuesday and Thursday after school. However, John figured that if he made up his hours quicker he wouldn't have to do it as long as he expected. He informed Mr. Scott that he'd be staying to help out and all the teacher did was nod his head and tell John to get back to work. John nodded once and twirled around and walked back into the shop. He stayed in there, practicing drilling into some spare wood, until the bell rang.

John watched as the rest of his class hurried to get their things and get out of the school, while he stood up and dusted himself off. He grabbed his backpack and put his hand on the theatre doors. He took a deep breath and swung open the door.

"SHERLOCK WHAT THE _HELL_ ARE YOU DOING??" A brunette girl screamed over headset.

"IM TRYING IM TRYING STOP YELLING AT ME," A familiar voice yelled from a far off distance.

People scurried right and left, half fumbling through sheets of paper, the other half running around with props. John dogged his way in and out of people and hurried down the theatre stairs. He saw Sherlock standing in the tech booth, hair completely a mess, flipping and sliding switches on what appeared to be a thick metal board. He glanced up from the stage and then quickly back down again. The lights on the stage moved all around frantically and changed color. Sherlock pressed his elbow down onto a mic and started blabbering away into it. The girl backstage stopped yelling at him and more at the people running around backstage.

The entire time, John just stood there with his backpack slung over one shoulder. In the midst of all the commotion, Sherlock called out to him, "You're not just going to stand there are you?"

John snapped back into reality and quickly jogged up to the window, making sure to not block the brunettes view.

"What do I do?" He asked.

"If you're looking for a formal invitation, Lestrade isn't here yet so feel free to join me," Sherlock said as his eyes frantically scanned the board.

John exited the theatre and went through the booths door were Sherlock stood. John set his things next to Sherlock's and seated himself in the chair next to the brunette.

"Pen."

"Wha-"

"John I need a pen!" Sherlock said extending his hand out.

John looked around the messy counter and eventually found a pen. He was about to put it in Sherlock hand when Sherlock said, "Uncap it."

He did as instructed and put the utensil in the other boys hand. Sherlock messily scribbled down some numbers and a reminder to hang 'that damn light'.

"Is it always this hectic?" John asked.

"No, most of the time Molly isn't yelling at me as much but I'm loosing my shit right now," Sherlock replied running his hand through his hair as he stopped to scan the board again with his eyes.

"Why is that?"

"Ugh you're so full of questions," Sherlock stated fumbling again with switches. "It's because I have so much to do with so little time and I keep forgetting to hang this damn light that I need." He said gesturing to the stage ahead of him.

"Why don't you hang it now?"

Sherlock looked up, stopped entirely, and turned to stared John dead in the eyes. "Take a good look at the stage."

"I-"

"Just take a look." He said narrowing his eyes.

John's eyes floated from Sherlock to the scene displayed in front of him. Most, if not all, the crew was out on stage. Some where moving sets from stage right to stage left, some where spiking pieces, and some where just actors getting in the way. Chatting and the occasional scream was heard, coming all the way from backstage or the tech shop. John's attention then snapped back to the annoyed brunette besides him. Sherlock was busy again at the board.

"Now, if I were up there on the catwalk right now, and I had a light in my hand and I let go, not knowing if it were fully tightened or not. What do you think would happen? Or! Say I'm wiring something up there and I get electrocuted, which has happened to me one to many times, and one of my tools goes flying from sixty feet in the air. What do you think would happen? Nothing good, that's what'll happen. I mess with all that-" His left hand flung out in front of him and waved around to indicate he was talking about the stage. "-once barley anybody is on stage and all set pieces or props are in the wings or at least off stage."

John didn't know whether to feel educated or offended. The sarcasm fell in the air and landed on a silver platter for him to take in. He let out a deep breath and spun a little in his chair.

"Why?" Sherlock asked vaguely.

"Why, what?"

"Why are you hear?" Sherlock said looking back up at the stage.

"I need extra credit hours for sports and this is the only place I know that stays after school for so long," John replied.

Sherlock hummed and looked back down at the board. He pushed passed John and pressed a couple buttons on another control panel. John watched Sherlock's shoulder blades relax and the brunettes body slacken. Sherlock turned around and sat down in the chair besides John.

The blond scanned the board in front of him, switches and buttons and slides looked way to complicated for him. Sherlock tapped away on his phone so John figured he could do the same. Because of school, both boys had their ringers and vibrators turned off. Sherlock was about to open an app and start up a conversation with his new internet friend, when he saw Mrs. Hudson walk in. He stuffed his phone in his pocket and looked over at the blond besides him. He knew John didn't have the slightest idea on how to work the sound, but he figured he'd teach him.

The stage cleared itself of most personal and Mrs. Hudson sat herself in the front row. She turned and nodded at Sherlock.

"John, you're going to work sound."

"I don't think-"

"I'll teach you. Lestrade isn't here so just do exactly as I say and everything will be okay." Sherlock said in a calming voice.

John looked at the board, nobs and slides lighting up. He looked back at Sherlock who offered a warming smile. John nodded and slid his phone into his back pocket.

"Uhhh, the volume seems to be pretty low but that's okay for now. Twist this nob and-um-no hold on," Sherlock said. He got up from his chair and stood behind John, leaning over and almost resting his head on John's shoulder. "Okay this nob," Sherlock said. John's shaky hand twisted a little and the boys heard a base kick in. "Now this one, and slide this up."

Soon the tracks for the musical were playing and the cast was singing along. Sherlock rigged it so John was only left to mess with pausing, rewinding, and the volume for the entire sound. Sherlock was still messing with lights and had to position and re-position spotlights every so often because actors didn't know how to stay still.

John watched Sherlock face, intently at work. He though that maybe he could get used to this, being here in the booth. Sure, it was definitely an experience working with Sherlock around things he had very little knowledge over, but it was amusing.

"John?"

"Hmm?"

"John?! Pause it." Sherlock said pointing to the board.

John turned pink and frantically looked down and pushed the button. He looked out and the cast that was onstage and Mrs. Hudson staring back at him specifically. He felt his face get hot but he didn't look down. He sat up and watched as they all focused their attention back on practice. Sherlock smiled and laughed to himself.

"Am I funny?" John asked raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, not at all." Sherlock replied shaking his head and looking down into his lap.

Mrs. Hudson was busy correcting the students and Sherlock knew he should be paying attention in case she called for a light cue, but he didn't care. He looked over at John, a phone screen illuminated his face. The booth was dark, similar to the house, and the only light emitted from the box was on the boards, lit up with gooseneck lights. Still, in any lighting, Sherlock had to admit John was pretty attractive. He shook his head slightly, trying to wipe away the thought.

There was a knock on the tech booth door. Lestrade walked through with his things, heaving like he'd just ran a marathon.

"Sorry I'm late," He breathed.

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to Molly." Sherlock whispered as he smiled.

"She noticed?"

"No."

"Thank god. Oh-Mr. Scott wants to see you by the way," Lestrade said setting his things in.

"Alright," Sherlock said getting up and stretching. "Come on John, let's see what the old man wants."

"You mean your leaving me alone?" Lestrade asked as John and Sherlock were about to exit.

"Yes," Sherlock said as he shut the door in the boys face.

John scoffed at Sherlock's rude actions but didn't make a fuss over it. The two turned the corner and walked down the hallway to the shop. Mr. Scott was sitting in a chair, his face in his hands as the techies building the set struggled. Sherlock didn't need words, he immediately set to action into ordering people around. John stood by Scott, who was now standing up and watching as well. Techies ran in every direction trying to follow the harsh brunettes words.

After a while, the commotion settled down and Sherlock was drilling two pieces of wood together on a work table. John insisted on being the one to drill the corner pieces into an 8 foot by 6 foot box. His body stretched up to reach the piece and drill in the three screws. Sherlock looked over at him. His varsity jacket was tied around his waist and the fabric of his white shirt clung to his muscular arms.

"Sherlock? Sherlock?!"

"What?" He answered, looking to where the voice came from.

"You're drilling into the table!" Mr. Scott said.

Sherlock looked down and immediately stopped the compact drill in his hand. The long screw he used had joined the two pieces together as well as make its way into the plastic table. Sherlock huffed and set the drill in reverse. He heard Scott laugh as he walked away.

"Jerk," Sherlock said quietly to himself.


	6. Curtain Theif

The next day, John had soccer practice and kinda dreaded going. He arrived at the school at 6:30 and jogged with the rest of the team around the entire school. His actual soccer class was in the morning, first block. The team was round up the locker room. John had just finished taking a shower and was now putting his things away in his locker. Anderson was doing the same, as well as some others.

"I heard your staying after school in the theatre," Anderson threw his voice to John.

"Yeah, it's cause of coaches new rule about staying after." John said, he was telling the truth but also felt like he was trying to cover up something.

Anderson dropped the topic, probably being nosey for no reason.

The bell soon rang and the class scurried down and out of the athletics hallway. The rest of the day, John hoped that Anderson would just leave him alone about Theatre. John wasn't lying when he said he was doing it for extra credit, but he also felt like he was doing it for another reason. He wasn't entirely sure about what this other reasons was though.

At the end of 8th block, John veered the corner and walked into the Theatre hallway. He saw Sherlock dart from the tech shop's garage door and into the Theatre's garage door. John's eyes tried to follow him, but he got lost within the blackened wings of the stage. It looked as though he was carrying a prop of some sorts. The blond shook his head and walked into Mr. Scotts room, stepping foot inside just as the bell rang. The small class chatted amongst themselves until Scott told them what they'd be working on.

John held a piece of wood for a sophomore who was drilling into it. His focus was on whether the piece was level or not, when he looked up and spotted Sherlock. The brunettes hair was messy but in a cute way. The pen in his hand patted itself on his lips as he stood and counted something John couldn't see. The blond felt himself staring too much so he looked back down at the piece he was holding. He heard Mr. Scott clear his throat from behind him. John turned around and saw the teacher walking, back into the classroom.

-

"Hey John," A familiar voice said.

John spun around just as he was leaving to go to practice and found Sherlock running up to him.

"Hey," He said.

"Have you gotten into lighting yet in tech 1?" Sherlock asked.

"No, just set building-"

"Good! Do you wanna help me hang that light I've been meaning to?" Sherlock said stepping closer to the blond.

John turned a little pink, his eyes darted from the brunette's lips back up to his eyes. "Uh-um, yeah, yeah, sure."

"Great," Sherlock said smiling, his body still very close to John's.

John cleared his throat, "well-I, uh, better get goin-"

"John?!" Anderson's voice came from behind him.

John's eyes grew wide and he started to trek backwards towards Anderson. "It was nice talking to you!" John said, trying to act as if that limited space between him and Sherlock meant nothing to him.

The two soccer players turned the corner and made their way to the athletics hall. An awkward silence hung between the two, as if they both knew something was up.

"Why-uh- why did you come down here?" John asked Anderson.

"You were running later than usual so I figured I'd check the hold up..." Anderson trailed off.

They both walked silently, hands stuffed into their varsity jackets. The rest of practice was now built in with a thick layer of tension. The coach even asked John if him and Anderson had just fought, he answered no.

_I just had the absolute worst practice ever._

_**Why's that?** _

_My teammate caught me doing something I wasn't suppose to be doing and now he won't even talk to me!_

_**What were you doing?** _

_Hanging out with someone._

_**I'm sure he'll come around if it wasn't like a girlfriend or ex or something** _

_Yeah, I guess you're right._

-

Wednesday. Theatre rehearsal day.

John got out of bed a little happier than yesterday. He arrived at school a little earlier, this way he could stay a little ahead of the pack and not have to see Anderson as much. When he got inside, he was the first to hit the showers and the first one to leave. When he trotted down the hallway, there was a certain skip in his step. Everything felt...right? Something he couldn't quite understand but loved anyway.

When he walked into the theatre, it was...quiet? John was shocked, did he miss practice? He saw Sherlock, armed with an assortment of tools, walking onto the stage. John made his way into the audience and set his things down in the first row. Sherlock turned around and saw him, "Hello!"

John waved at the brunette, climbed his way up the stairs, and made his way next to where Sherlock was standing. The boys made their way into the right wing and pulled the light they got out before. Sherlock ran to the board Molly works with and held a switch, pulling down a row of lights from the top of the stage. John stood back and watched as they lowered to about waist height. Sherlock came back out and they unboxed the light.

"Hold this," Sherlock said.

John held the light as Sherlock took out a tool and started connecting the light to the metal rod that hung all the lights together. When he was done, Sherlock went back to the switch and hoisted the lights back up.

"Run back to the booth and I need you to turn this row on for me." Sherlock said.

John ran back and stood behind the board Sherlock usually works on. He hesitated for a moment before looking back up at Sherlock. The brunette guided John to the right row of switches and Sherlock checked to see if it looked okay.

"This one needs tweaking. You can turn them off and come over here now," Sherlock called out to John.

The boys climbed up the tall ladder and walked to the light Sherlock had pointed too. John watched as he worked. It looked like Sherlock had done this so many times, he was almost careless about it. John smiled but then heard footsteps from below.

Hanging from a rod was a thin white screen that extended all the way across the stage. It was hung so that it could be taken off with one person pulling on it. John saw a figure dressed in black start pulling on the end of it.

"Sherlock," John whispered, trying not to get the attention of the person below.

"Hold on John," Sherlock said in almost a normal voice.

The figure below looked around and started pulling a little faster.

" _Sherlock_!!" John whisper-yelled.

"John, if I drop this light I'll be in debt to the school for the rest of my lif-" Sherlock said in the same voice.

"Sherlock, look around right now!" John said in still a quiet voice.

Sherlock tightened the last bolt and looked to where John was pointing. The figure had taken most of the screen off and looked like he was about to make a run for it. Sherlock creeped over to the other side of the catwalk to get a better view of the person.

'Tall, muscular, probably an athlete. Wearing all the black, mmmm could be just a built techie? No, we don't have those. Plus he looks unsure of how to pull it off.' Sherlock thought. He started to silently go down the ladder, but it was too late. The figure had already stolen the white screen and was now running with it all bundled up in his hands. Sherlock quickly climbed down and jumped off the last couple of rungs. He tried his best to follow the hooded thief. The figure darted into a hallway and Sherlock lost him. There were so many different ways he could of gone, but Sherlock searched them all. No signed of any hooded man in either of the hallways.

"Damnit!" Sherlock said, throwing his hands into his hair.

He walked back into the theatre, John was now down from the catwalk and currently sat in the front row with his hand resting against his temple.

"What are we going to do?" John asked.

"We're going to find whoever took it," Sherlock said.

"Better tell Mr. Scott," John said getting up.

Sherlock pinned him back down to the maroon chair. "You must be out of your _goddamn_ mind if you think we're gonna tell _anyone_ about this. No, we hope they just don't notice for the time being. I'll move the curtain in front of it so nobody notices and when we find it, we'll hang it up. The only reason we're alone in the theatre right now, is because all the actors are working on music in the choir room. We need to find it by next Wednesday or we are doomed."

John looked around and closed his mouth to silence his protest. Sherlock has had more experience with these people, taking his advice would be the best thing to do. John stood up, being a little too close to Sherlock for a brief second, and stepped away from the brunette.

"You need to check and listen in on people's conversations in the athletics hallway." Sherlock said.

John nodded. He knew how much athletes loved to brag so if it was them, he'd know.

John stuffed his hands into his pockets after checking time time on his watch. It was almost time to go home, but with this mystery on his hands, he wanted to do anything but that.

He parted way with Sherlock and headed out to his car. He scanned the fields, the football team had practice today. So did the tennis people and volleyball girls. John made this mental note and hopped inside of his car.


	7. Caught Like A Fly

In the locker room, John made sure to linger a bit before leaving. It was oddly quiet today, not even Anderson would say anything. This definitely raised some suspicion in the blond. He exited the room and trotted down the hallway with one of his teammates. They were talking about an upcoming game but John's mind was somewhere else. He was so nervous. What if Mr. Scott found out and John wasn't allowed back into the theatre program? He couldn't make up his credits or see Sherlock again.

'See Sherlock again?' John thought, 'since when did I care if I saw Sherlock again?'

John tried his best to push back the thought that he could possibly have feelings for the brunette, but it'd come back every time. He ignored them the best he could and just when he thought he had it under control, he'd look at those messy curls and the thoughts would instantly flood his mind again. John didn't know whether this was a good or a bad thing taking into account the situation the pair was in.

The blond and his teammate parted ways and John no longer had a distraction. He forced his mind to go blank as he walked down the halls. He scanned every student that walked by him for a tall build or a black hoodie. No one he saw was suspicious. He ducked into his second block class filled with chatting students. The teacher soon started to lecture but it went in one ear and out the other for John. His mind was somewhere else.

It was back on the catwalk with Sherlock by his side. It was standing in the hallway with Sherlock inches away from his face. It was drilling into wood in the tech shop with Sherlock helping him out and having their fingers brush against each other. It was with Sherlock and John gave up looking for a reason why.

On his way to theatre, John considered skipping and going home. Then again, if they did find out and John wasn't there, that might look suspicious. John's paced slowed as he drew closer to the corner leading into the theatre hall. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath.

Mr. Scott was completely normal. Everything felt right but fake. Like John knew something Scott, and the rest of the school, didn't know about. After class, he didn't even walk into the theatre. He skipped around to the booth because he knew that'd be where Sherlock was. John was right. Perched in the swivel chair was the brunette John had been thinking about all day.

"Hey John," Sherlock said still facing away from the blond.

"Hello," John said in almost a shy voice. That was new.

He set his things down next to Sherlock's and sat in a chair. John looked at Sherlock, why was he so calm? Is he not worrying at all?

"Sherlock, about the scree-"

"John, do you take government?" Sherlock interrupted.

"Yes..?" John said, confused.

"Well in there, they teach you the basics of law. In our justice system, Defense Attorney's defend the 'guilty' and they'll do anything in their power to prove they're client is innocent." Sherlock went on.

"What does this have to do with our problem?" John asked.

Just as he said that, musical theatre students came flooding through the doors and pouring into the theatre. John bit his lip in nervousness. If Mrs. Hudson asked to raise the curtain and the screen wasn't there, they'd be in huge trouble. Just as John predicated, Mrs. Hudson nodded to Sherlock and Molly called cue for the curtains being raised. The back curtain was being raised and low and behold, the white screen hung just as it did before.

John turned his head to Sherlock, "How??"

"Simple. This morning I scanned the cars by the athletics gym. Because the person who stole it was of a big built, ran quite fast, and was able to carry a giant, heavy screen. Most likely into sports; or you could argue that they're just immensely into working out. But being this is a high school, they'd probably be in sports. Then after an hour of scrounging around, I found that gem laying in the backseat of someone's car. May or may not have busted the window but that fucker got what they deserved."

"....Amazing...." John whispered gawking at the brunette besides him.

Sherlock's eyes grew wide and his mouth opened just ajar before closing shut and his face turning as red as a cherry.

"R-really?" He asked.

"Yeah, I couldn't of done that to be honest. I didn't even know where to start!" John said leaning against the back of the chair casually.

"Oh...well-um thank you," Sherlock said. He looked around and spoke quickly, "Where has Lestrade been? He's never here anymore."

"Want me to go check?" John asked sitting up.

"No, I'll go. You stay here in case they need anything."

"But Sherlock I don't know how to work-"

Sherlock was already off and had closed the door. He walked down the hallway and into the tech shop. Mr. Scott stood there, Lestrade by his side, looking at set plans for an upcoming piece needed for second Act.

"Where have you been?" Sherlock asked Lestrade as he leaned over the table to look at the design.

"Figured you and your boyfriend wanted some time alone, so I've been helping Scott." Lestrade said smirking at the brunette.

Mr. Scott laughed but quickly covered his mouth and escaped into his room behind the shop.

Sherlock turned red and muttered, "He's not my boyfriend..."

"Mmm not yet?" Lestrade asked. "You need to get on that Sher, don't want him seeing the show with some girl."

Sherlock knew Lestrade was kinda right. He didn't like to admit when he was wrong but this was an obvious defeat. Sherlock knew somehow he needed to tell John how he felt but knowing how straight boy mentality works, he'd most likely get shot down.

Sherlock made his way back to hallway and pulled out his phone.

_**Hey, so do you have any advice for asking people out?** _

He got an instant reply.

_Like to where?_

_**Uhhh like just on a date in general** _

_Yeah I guess. Don't overplay it too much like try not to make a scene? Do something sweet for them before hand also. Like make them think that you care._

Sherlock hand rested on the door to the booth. He smiled at the message, already thinking of what he could do.

**_Thanks_ **

Sherlock pushed open the door and found John on his phone.

"Are you kidding me? Mrs. Hudson is right there, you're asking for a death wish." Sherlock said plopping right next to John.

John stuffed his electronic in his pocket and sat up again.

"Sorry just...replying to a friend," He said.

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to Molly." Sherlock laughed.

"Who?" John asked.

"Our insane Stage Manager," Sherlock said.

"I heard that!" Molly's voice boomed from a headset sitting close to Sherlock.

Sherlock flipped the switch so the headset powered off, then got up and turned the booth's lights off. Both boy sat in their seats giggling to themselves.

"You're gonna have to turn that back on," John said.

"If Molly wants something bad enough, she'll yell for it."

Again, the pair sat quietly laughing to themselves. Sherlock was asked to change a couple of light cues so he was busy messing with the light board.

"Hey, Sherlock?"

Sherlock hummed in response. His head swaying to John, who looked absolutely stunning bathing in blue light.

"Our first soccer game is going to be on Saturday. I wanted to know if you wanted to come and watch." John said suddenly loosing his courage. In attempts of give the appearance of confidence, he gave Sherlock his award winning smile. Every bone in the brunette's body telling him to say 'yes, yes, yes!'

"I'd love too. Text me the time and place." Sherlock said.

"I don't have your number," John said.

"Ah here," Sherlock got out his phone and allowed John to put in his number. John put some emojis next to his name and gave the device back to the brunette. Sherlock smiled at the little theatre masks and soccer ball John placed by his name. Sherlock texted him a simple hello, just so John had his number.

The rest of practice ran smoothly until Molly almost ripped the leads head off. The boys lingered in the tech booth a little longer, everyone was cleared out by then.

"We should get going," Sherlock said.

John nodded his head and they both stood up and grabbed their stuff. They stood by the door, unsure of whether who should let who go first. John stared intently at Sherlock, their blue eyes clashing against each other like tiny galaxies. His mouth hung open slightly and for a moment, Sherlock swore the universe had stopped spinning just for them. Sherlock cleared his throat and pushed himself against the metal doorframe.

"I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" He asked, feeling his face turn pink.

"Yeah," John exited the doorway and started to walk away from Sherlock.

The brunette fully leaned against the metal framing, letting out a big puff of air from his lungs. He heard footsteps quickly run up next to him and a pair of lips peck the side of his face. His eyes grew wide and his mouth extended down to the floor. Sherlock saw John smirk, then turn on his heels and walk away again. The blond left Sherlock completely awestruck.

Sherlock fumbled for his phone and quickly made a post on his blog. Almost instantly, his internet friend commented under it.

**_Fucking go for it._ **


	8. Definitely Not A People Person

Sherlock's mind has been more chaotic than ever before. Mini versions of himself were starting fires and trashing his neatly filed thoughts, so it was constant catastrophe up there.

And it was all John's fault.

Sherlock didn't mind though, it was a good type of chaos. The last day of practice before the weekend let out and John acted a little more open to Sherlock than he had been. They didn't act like the kiss never happened, but they didn't talk about it while in school. When Sherlock got in his car, John texted him the time and place for the game.

Sherlock wasn't one for sports, or crowds, or outdoors areas, but he'd tough it out for John. He pulled out of the now empty parking lot and drove home, already thinking of outfit ideas.

-

John's fingers floated lightly on the steering wheel. He had a good feeling about this game and he didn't know why. Maybe because it was the first game of the season.

Or because it's soccer his favorite sport and he's going to be playing it.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was because this would be the first game of John's that Sherlock would be at. John still couldn't believe he worked up enough fake courage to ask Sherlock to go. It felt like that was apart of a really good dream that he'd woken up from.

He arrived at the school early just as he was suppose to. He got out and saw Anderson's car, window tapped over with fabric. John made the connection and was filled with rage.

"You asshole! You're the one that stole the screen!" John said as soon as he spotted the taller boy in the hall.

Anderson furrowed his brows and crossed his arms. "Yeah cause you were getting all up-close and gay with that dude from theatre. I warned you not to do shit like that-"

"And look what your warning got you? A busted fucking window. I know for a fact that certainly isn't coming out of your pocket because last I heard, you got fired from your last job. Wonder why that was?" John said raising his voice. Some of his teammates started to stand behind him and gawk at what Anderson had done. The taller man had started to turn red with embarrassment and quickly marched away from the small group. John's teammates patted him on the back for standing up to Anderson as they went to the locker room.

  
Sherlock didn't know what to wear. He'd never been to a sporting event in his life so he eventually turned to the Internet for help. Out of his closet he chose a purple shirt and some black jeans. Casual right? He grabbed a light jacket then checked the clock.

The game started later in the evening than most, but Sherlock wasn't complaining. However, when he got to the schools stadium, he questioned whether he should be here or not. Students from both schools, of all grade levels came, and paraded amongst themselves. Anytime someone would try to strike up conversation with Sherlock, his mind would flip out.

Definitely not a people person.

But Sherlock found a seat in the bleachers, down at the bottom because the top was too crowded with people. The game started and Sherlock saw his blond walk out along with the rest of his team. He smiled but stayed seated as the crowd, painted with their teams colors, roared. Sherlock didn't know much about soccer, or sports in general, but he did know to cheer when their team cheered. Mostly the brunette clapped, applauding when a goal was scored.

In the midst of the crowd, Sherlock noticed John had a sort of glow. Similar to that of when he worked on set and he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. This made the brunette smile.

Sherlock mostly watched John, though he darted his eyes onto other players in case anyone was noticing. A cold breeze blew by, causing Sherlock to pull his jacket tight around him. John was in shorts and a loose fitting top, there's no way he wasn't freezing. Sherlock figured he could do that stereotypical thing of giving your jacket to your significant other as a sign of affection.

'No, no, I'm just overthinking this.' Sherlock though as his head turned from the ball on the field to the blond.

The game soon ended and, not surprisingly, their team had won. John was able to sneak away from the locker room in attempts to find Sherlock. He spotted the brunette exiting the stadium and quickly rushed over to him.

"Sherlock!" John said sprinting across the field.

Sherlock turned around and smiled at John as he approached. "Hey, good game."

"Yeah, first win of he year I guess." John said putting his hands on his lips and hunching over a bit to catch his breath. "Can I walk with you?"

"Oh-of course," Sherlock said, his eyes kept on John.

"Cool. Lemme go get my stuff really quick," John said running back to where he came from.

As soon as John had turned around and made the dash, Sherlock instantly smiled. He stood in the midst of stadium lights, staring at his feet and smiling like an idiot. He heard running footsteps drawing nearer. He looked up and tried to hide his massive grin. John was now back, with his bag, and a little more sweaty than before. Sherlock didn't mind, seeing as though he just played a game and ran across the field four times.

They started to walk towards the parking lot, an awkward silence hung between them. The tension between the two was high and filled the airspace around them. Sherlock found intrusive thoughts telling him to grab John's face and plant a passionate kiss on his lips, but Sherlock refrained from doing so. John's hand swung in the middle of the two while the other was glued to his backpack strap. Sherlock tried not to hit John's hand when they swung against each other, but the occasional brush happened.

"Some conversation I am," Sherlock said jokingly.

"Ah, same for me." John smirked.

They stopped at Sherlock's car and lingered there. Sherlock didn't want to go and John didn't want him to either. Sherlock worked up enough courage and started,

"Hey, would you want to-"

"JOHN!" Someone called from behind them.

The boys turned around and Anderson was standing there along with some teammates.

"Come on man, you'll miss the party if you keep standing there with _him_." He yelled.

John's brow furrowed and Sherlock looked at him with confusion.

"Why did he say 'him' like a bad thing? Do you know something-"

John looked up and grabbed Sherlock's hand, intertwining their fingers together. Anderson huffed and turned around with the rest of the team. Sherlock turned so red that he was so glad it was nighttime or else John would of noticed.

"Can you take me home? I don't wanna go back there." John looked at Sherlock with puppy dog eyes, still holding his hand.

"Um-uh, y-yeah I can do that." Sherlock fumbled for his keys and unlocked the car.

John let go of the brunette's hand and Sherlock instantly felt like he'd lost something important. Sherlock started the car and backed out and away from the stadium. He could still feel how hot his face was but he looked like a decent shade in the mirror.

"Take the left here," John said.

Sherlock followed the directions John was giving him and they ended up parked outside of a medium sized suburban home.

"Thank you," John said.

"No problem," Sherlock breathed.

'What's gonna happen next?' He though.

"You wanna talk about it now or later?" John asked looking over at the brunette.

"Later," He said sitting up and adjusting his shirt.

"Me too. See you later Sherlock," John said smiling at the brunette before exiting the car.

Sherlock sat back in his seat. His chest puffed out, then back down. What would be the best way to ask John out? Sherlock knew he couldn't keep avoiding his feelings with these new advances.

The question of whether he was queer or not was already slammed off the table when he kissed his cheek. Now the situation presented itself with a new set of questions Sherlock was sure were ten times harder.


	9. Tech Week Is Coming

Sherlock waited impatiently in the tech booth. His stomach twisted itself in and out of knots that shot bees down his veins. The hand resting on the control panel was no longer resting, it was shaking nonstop. To distract him mind from his nerves, he stuffed it into his lap. Sherlock kept turning his head and checking the stage door to see if anyone was to come in that way.

"Whatcha freaking out about?" Lestrade said, popping his head out from outside the booth and making Sherlock yelp and fall off his chair.

"N-nothing! Don't do that Lestrade!" Sherlock said getting up from the marble flooring.

"Ah-is this about John?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock scoffed and turned his head in annoyance. "Wanna announce it to the whole world?"

"What are you gonna do?"

"Well, all the actors will be in the choir room working on songs so it'll only be me and him in the house. I have something set up--but you can't be here!" Sherlock said trying to shu Lestrade off.

Lestrade gave in and exited the theatre doors, swearing up and down to Sherlock that if he saw John, he wouldn't tell him anything.

Sherlock pulled out his phone to try and calm himself down.

**_I'm doing it but I'm so nervous. What if I'm rejected?_ **

_Then they weren't worth your time! I'm sure everything will be fine. Is it a surprise?_

**_Kinda_ **

_I'm sure they'll never see it coming._

Sherlock smiled then heard footsteps from the left wing. His favorite blond walked down the stairs and immediately smiled up at Sherlock. The brunette didn't know what to do with himself.

As soon as John had exited the theatre, Sherlock's confidence vanished into thin air. He breathed in and out multiple times in order to collect himself. The only time he was ever this nervous was opening night of his first show, and even then this was worse.

"Hey Sherlock," John said letting his tongue click the 'k'.

John closed the tech booth's door and was now sitting next to Sherlock.

"Hello, so-um, I have something to ask yo-show you. I have something to show you." Sherlock said darting his eyes away from John and to the control panel.

The front curtains raised, leaving the stage bare with the exception of the white screen. Sherlock flipped switches and pressed a couple buttons until a red wash appeared on the screen. The lights danced around for a bit before focusing mainly on one area. Green lights appeared at the bottom and soon the faint shape a rose formed. John stared at the presentation eagerly. Sherlock twirled his body to face John's, who was now gawking at the screen.

"John will you-"

"Yes. Whatever it is, yes." John said taking his eyes off of the screen and back to Sherlock.

The instant eye contact made Sherlock turn ten shades of red. The brunette, who knew nothing of personal space, grabbed ahold of John's hand and rolled his chair very close to him. Sherlocks longer legs clung to the outside of John's.

"A-are you sure?" Sherlock asked.

John didn't reply. Instead he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on Sherlock's lips. John, now a little red himself, pulled back a little letting Sherlock process what just happened. Sherlock locked eyes with John and scooted closer, engaging in a deeper kiss. John leaned back so Sherlock was almost sitting on his lap. His arms wrapped around the brunette's back, trying to pull him closer. It was pure bliss for both boys until they heard a whistle from the dimly lit stage. Sherlock froze and pulled away to look and see who it was. Molly and no more than three cast members were on stage, cheering on the two. Sherlock pushed off on his swivel chair and turned off the lights to the booth so the small party of four couldn't see them anymore.

"Intimate," John laughed softly.

"I'm going get so much flack for that for the rest of the year," Sherlock said messing with the board to wiped the rose off the screen.

John rolled his chair over and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist, planting a soft kiss on his neck. "They're just jealous."

Goosebumps scattered across Sherlock's body, racing up his neck and leaving a tingling sensation on his cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut and hoped it was too dark for John to notice. John rested his head on Sherlock's shoulder and pulled out his phone again. With a free hand not wrapped around Sherlock, John messaged his internet friend.

_How did it go?_

Sherlock's phone then vibrated on the counter where the boards sat. John looked up at him in confusion.

"Sherlock, check your phone."

He did as he was told and the message " _How_ _did_ _it_ _go_?" appeared on his screen.

"Wow...well if that isn't mere coincidence, I don't know what is." Sherlock said, annoyed he didn't figure that obvious username out sooner.

"Okay 'consultingdetective'" John mimicked.

"Don't mock me. That's what little Sherlock wanted to do when he grew up." Sherlock said a little shyly.

John laughted and hugged Sherlock.

 

-

 

"I'm excited for next week," John said with a smile on his face.

He looked forward to boasting to the cast about his new boyfriend.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Sherlock said. He paused and his eyes grew wide. "Oh no..."

"What?" John asked.

The boys were sprawled out on Sherlock's bed. The Holmes house sat still and empty and the sun peaked through Sherlock's white drapes. They lay, entangled in each other, amongst Sherlock's sheets. The fabric from both of their clothes creased on the bedding.

"It's kicking in already and I haven't even stepped foot in theatre!" Sherlock said, his free hand flying up to his face.

"What's kicking in? What's happening? Sherlock tell me!"

"John, my sweet but absolutely ignorant love. You're too innocent for this, I'm not letting you into rehearsal for the next week." Sherlock said smiling at the boy next to him.

"Why not! You're not making sense!"

"Because," Sherlock said. "We've only just starting dating and next week, everyone, including myself, will be at their absolute worst."

"I doubt that-"

"No John. Tech week is next week." Sherlock turned a serious face John.

"What's tech week?" John asked.

"Nightmare material. It's the week prior to opening night and it's actual hell." Sherlock said taking both of John's hands in his. "And I will not let you see me like that."

"I don't see what so bad about that week in particular-"

"It's because that's when we mainly start focusing on the technical side of everything. That's when we start actually using the moving set pieces and props and everything else." Sherlock explained.

"Well if I can't handle it the first day, I won't come until opening week."

"John I like you, I really do. But I will not hesitate to put the entire theatre department on lock down from you."

"Try me," John smirked.

"You asked for this, not me." Sherlock said kissing the back of the blond's hand.


	10. It's Only Monday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based On True Events.  
> ((Rip those set of stairs.))

Sherlock did not need this year to be as bad as the previous ones, he had someone to impress this time. He took precautions on absolutely everything. He packed a bunch of unnecessary but necessary things into a large tub the night before. Blankets, _heated_ blankets, a thick stack of notebook paper, ten pencils, tape, tape, and more tape. Nothing was going to ruin the first day of tech week.

-

Sherlock woke up 10 minutes earlier than when he was supposed to, which made him happy at first. Then when he started his car, he could feel the sudden loss of those ten minutes. He was about to go to school when he spotted a drive through and turned to order a coffee. There was just no way he'd make it through a single day this week without one. He veered the corner into the ghost-town that was the school parking lo. Sherlock too a deep breath and exited the car. He swung his backpack over both shoulders and set his coffee on the lid to the clear tub he brought everything in.

He took the back way into the theatre since the front was hardly ever open. Walking backwards into the doorway, he paced into the dimly lit theatre hallway. Mrs. Hudson was already in her room, busy messing with papers for one of her theatre classes. Sherlock saw the theatre door held wide open and propped with a rectangular weight. He walked inside and down the stairs. Exiting the theatre, he then turned and unlocked the tech booth.

The only reason Sherlock had the key was because he needed it, for a morning just like this, but he kept forgetting to give it back to Mrs. Hudson. It got to the point where she said he could have it till the end of his senior year since he basically lived in there.

Sherlock plopped the tub down under the counter where the sound persons feet would be. Grabbing his coffee, he spun on his heels and exited the booth, making sure to lock it as he left. Listening to his steps, Sherlock sipped on his coffee. He sucked up all the 'relax' time he could in his few moments of solace. Sherlock was about to make his way up the stairs, when he spotted John sitting with some of his teammates on the closetest cafeteria table. Sherlock hesitated and thought maybe he shouldn't go over and sit by John.

John noticed Sherlock and they shared a few seconds of eye contact before John flagged him down. Sherlock walked over and sat next to John; He felts as if all eyes were on him.

"So this is the famous Sherlock," A boy sitting across from John said. "Gotta admit, he isn't that bad."

John rolled his eyes but smiled at Sherlock. The boys stayed there and chatted till the bell rang. They watched the underclassmen scurry out of the  crowded cafeteria before they even thought of getting up and leaving.

"We still have fifteen minutes before class starts," John said looking at Sherlock. John then looked at the stairs  he'd have to soon climb and sighed.

"Eh, it's just to clear traffic I suppose." Sherlock said shrugging.

"I'm sure students do other things in these fifteen minutes," John said smirking and wiggling his eyebrows at Sherlock.

"Like what?" Sherlock asked smiling back.

John turned a little pink because of Sherlock's question. He was about to say something but was cut off by a female voice coming from behind the boys.

"Hello lovebirds!" Molly said.

"How do you sound so happy?" Sherlock said.

"This happiness is an illusion. By rehearsal, we probably won't have a lead anymore!" She said with a smile that read 'murder'.

"Don't you dare jinx us Molly."

"You guys take this thing way to seriously," John huffed, thinking they were just over-exaggerating.

"Sherlock did you not tell him what tech week was?" Molly asked.

"Oh no, I did. I told him to not come to rehearsals this week but he insists." Sherlock said standing up, the seat still between his knees.

"You stupid, stupid child." Molly shook her head in shame.

With that she left the two boys. John's friends had gone to class and the only people left in the once crowded cafeteria, were seniors too lazy to get up. John stood up with Sherlock and they began to slowly loiter out of the cafeteria.

"What class do you go to?" Sherlock asked John, their hands now intertwined.

"Journalism." John said smiling.

"Gross," Sherlock huffed.

"Hey, it's not that bad!" John defended.

They stood by a stairwell that was forced to separate the two. Sherlock kissed the top of John's forehead.

"I'll see you later today."

"Okay-"

"Oh and John?" Sherlock asked.

John looked up at the brunette, gazing into his eyes. "Yes?"

Sherlock held their eyes together. He inhaled and spoke,

"If I die today, go on without me."A grin starting to appear on his face.

"Okay Drama Queen," John said turning around and going to class.

-

Sherlock made the awful mistake of not turning the stage lights on first. When he opened the doors to the theatre for last block, it was pitch black. Sherlock knew the theatre well enough to walk it in the dark, so he took his chances. He made it just to Molly's control panel when his leg smacked hard into a box.

"Shit!" He whispered to himself.

His shin felt like it was going to cave in. He stumbled back a bit and hobbled over to the backstage lights. He flicked them on and turned to see what he'd hit.

"A fucking shin buster?! You're kidding me. Why the hell are these backstage... and in a walkway!?" He said to himself.

He picked up the small light that was mounted on wood and slid it to the actual stage.

He sighed and thought, 'This is gonna be a long week.'

-

"What the fuck is this??" Sherlock yelled from the tech booth.

The curtains had opened to reveal a set piece, a couple of boxes that resembled that of a house, with a bright, obnoxious pink paint.

"What's the problem?" Mr. Scott said, walking into the theatre. He looked directly through the set stages lights over to Sherlock.

"Look." Sherlock said throwing his hands towards the set.

Mr. Scott turned around and stood for a moment before muttering, "oh."

He walked off stage, leaving Molly to deal with the angry Sherlock.

"What's the issue?" She asked.

"Now, I'm fully aware that nothing in the original light plot is set in stone. But I asked Mr. Scott what the color of the set was going to be and he said blue. He said blue! So when I rigged the lights, I set the one that's going to be on that-" He pointed to the set, "-as a golden orangey-yellow!" Sherlock said running a hand through his hair.

"You could always just-"

"Molly!"

She paused. She could feel Sherlock's annoyance from across the house. "I'll tell Lestrade to get on it!"

The bell rang and Sherlock was forced to calm himself down. He hung his head and propped his entire body up with his arms. Sherlock's shoulder blades shot up while the rest of his back sunk towards the tech booth's counter. He shook his head as if to shake off stress.

"That bad already?" He heard John's voice say, around where Molly used to be.

Sherlock let out a muffled 'yes' and was quickly met with a hug from John. He stood up normally and hugged back, resting his chin on John's head. 

"You got this, I believe in you." John said patting Sherlock's back and looking up at him.

There was something about John and his horribly good-looking letterman jacket that convinced Sherlock that he was right. Sherlock smiled and nodded his head in agreement.

"I wish I had you when I teched my first show." Sherlock said sitting back down in his seat.

"Why is that? So you can have someone sweet-talk you into doing things?" John smiled.

"Yes actually. My very first show, I was a stage-hand, I moved the set around. I ended up rolling a huge pile of wood shaped as a fence over my foot. Dropped an s-bomb onstage." Sherlock said smirking out of the right side of his mouth. 

"You did not," John gasped.

"Ask Molly and Scott. They were both backstage when I was flipping out because I though the audience had heard me." 

"So they moved you to lights instead?"

"Precisely. Even back here I have a very colorful language the people in the back row get the privilege of hearing sometimes."

"That's awful!" John said smiling while he playfully hit Sherlock's arm. 

Later on during practice, the actors had gone to the dressing rooms and started changing into full costume. Many were already dressed and scattered throughout the stage or in the choir room warming up their vocals.

"Please do not mess with these yet. They aren't secure enough so techies will be out here shortly," Mr Scott said as he rolled out a set of stairs. He made direct eye contact with every single actor in the house at the time. They nodded in unison and Scott walked away back into the shop. Sherlock and John watched the exchange from the booth.

"They're gonna break it," Sherlock mumbled over to John, who was starting to get used to the soundboard.

"You don't know that," John said smiling over at the brunette.

"Watch."

As soon as he said that, a pack of male actors pranced onto stage in their costumes. The two boys in front lead the group in a song that was meant for the second act of the show. A boy in a black leather jacket with hair slicked back, spoke to the boy in suspenders next to him.

"Hey, are those the stairs for our song?"

"Yeah I think so," The boy in suspenders said.

The two boys exchanged looks and hopped onto the 8 foot by 13 foot set of newly made stairs. Their feet stayed planted in one spot, but they shifted their weight from foot to foot, making the stairs rock. From the tech booth, it looked stable as they stood on them.

"See they're fine," John said nodding towards the stage.

"Oh shi-" The boy in the leather jacket said before the step he stood on fell through.

Sherlock looked down and shook his head. The sound was loud and the rest of the cast just stared silently in either shock or anger. Soon, one of the leads best friends started yelling at them and then so did the rest of the cast onstage. The boy in the leather jacket started to turn a shade of red and was panicking a little.

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" Molly voice rang from the left wing. "YOU GOTTA BE FUCKIN KIDDING ME BIRDIE!!"

"Shit dude," said the guy in suspenders, who quickly leaped off the broken stairs and ran the opposite direction of the now charging Molly.

The one who had broken them tried to quickly squirm out of the wooden piece but Molly was too quick. The actors started to 'ooo' and make unnecessary noise at the frustrated Molly.

Sherlock started to quietly mock and repeat everything Molly was saying.

"Everybody shut up! Don't move, don't speak, don't breathe, or I'm killing absolutely all of you!!"

Sherlock giggled, still looking down at the silver slides on the board. John just watched the entire thing while Sherlock pretended like he was minding his own business. There was nothing they could do to save the actor now.

"Did Scott not _just_ say to not get on them?!" She boomed.

"I-I didn't hea-"

"Oh you didn't hear?! I'll help you fix that," She yelled as she dragged him off stage by his ear.

The actor's eyes followed the boy and the hot pile of steam offstage. The theatre rang out in silence for a couple of seconds before a couple actors worked up the courage to speak.

"Is she allowed to do that?!" John asked quietly, suddenly scared by the caffeine-enduced, brunette lady.

"If she breaks his bones, it's his fault." Sherlock said smiling.

John shook his head and went back to the soundboard. A group of techies, hands packed with drills, came onstage and got the stairs and the access board that broke from the actors fall. They shook their heads as they exited. 

"Only a week till this shit is live," Sherlock said resting his elbows on the counter. He sighed deeply and exited the booth to go help Lestrade with the broken stairs.

"Scott, we don't have enough wood to keep fixing these things." Lestrade said as he checked the top of the shelves that houses the planks of wood.

"Cut the 20 foot ones then..." He sighed.

"Are you a hundred percent sure?" Lestrade asked.

Scott nodded and trudged back into his office muttering, "This department and I don't get paid enough for this."

Sherlock walked towards the half broken stairs. The boy who broke them, with the character name of Birdie, was walking back into the theatre with his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. He walked with a bit of a limp but Sherlock couldn't afford to think of what that would entail. Lestrade looked at the mess and spotted Sherlock.

"What do we do?"

"Go ahead and cut the 20's. I'll unscrew the two screws holding these broken pieces on and we'll go from there." Sherlock sighed and picked up the drill.

Lestrade soon joined him when they were screwing the new piece back on.

"So you left lover boy in the booth alone?" Lestrade asked.

"Yeah he can handle it."

"You asked him in the cutest way possible." Lestrade said with a smirk.

"You weren't even ther- nevermind news travels fast." Sherlock said.

"Exactly! You should of seen Scott's face when Molly came in and told us. He almost started a bet with tech 2."

"He what?!"

"You heard my Sher," Lestrade said smirking at the brunette.

When Sherlock got back to the booth, John's hair was a mess. He flipped through a laminated book, filled with certain commands and actions for the soundboard.

"Sherlock I can't do thisss," John hissed.

"Yes you can," Sherlock said hugging John from behind and placing a light kiss on his shoulder.

John relaxed in Sherlock's grasp and turned his head to the side. "I understand what you meant by 'hell week'."

"And it's only Monday." Sherlock said as he got up and plopped into the swivel chair.


	11. Opening Night

"That was the longest week of my fucking life," John said as he plopped on Sherlock's bed.

The two had arrived at Sherlock's home at midnight, the new norm for that week. It was Friday night but Sherlock insisted on just spending the night at his instead of having John driving in the dark. Sherlock sat at his desks chair, covered from head to toe in specks of sawdust.

"I repeat this two more times throughout the year," Sherlock said smiling at the blond.

"How do you do it?" John breathed.

"At the end of the day, it's fun for me. The thrill of having everything come together into one thing. There's nothing more satisfying than closing the curtains for a sold-out crowd on opening night. All the hard work and torment you put yourself through is being appreciated even if you're not the face of the operation." Sherlock said. He grabbed some clean clothes and peeled off his shirt. He was pulling the new shirt over his head when he took note of John's eyes.

"What are you staring at?" Sherlock asked smirking.

"N-nothing! You're just cute when you talk about something you're passionate about," John said sitting up.

Sherlock chuckled and changed out of his dust-colored jeans. He made his way over to John and they sat side by side on the queen sized bed. Sherlock laced fingers with John as they sat, enjoying each other's company.

"Thanks. You're cute all the time," Sherlock said smirking while looking down.

John pressed a kiss onto Sherlock's neck after he said this. Sherlock turned his head and kissed John, lingering for a moment longer before pulling away.

They stayed up into the morning, talking about everything they possibly could. The sleep they hadn't been getting finally kicked in around 2:30 am because of all the coffee they'd had that Friday. Sherlock turned the lights off and both of them were out as soon as their heads hit the pillows.

-

Sherlock woke up to an empty bed. Then he remembered it was Wednesday and swung his legs off the side of the bed. The weekend had been so amazing, he wished he could relive it all over again. Sadly, his early alarm wouldn't let him.

When he got to school, the blond sat their patiently waiting for him.

"Sherlock! It's opening day!" John said with a smile stretched across his face.

"It won't feel like it for another 10ish hours. When house is full and we give clearance to Molly." Sherlock said as he walked around and sat next to John.

The blond nodded and opened his palm out on the table. Sherlock took the cue and slid his hand into John's. The bell eventually rang and the two waited for everyone to clear out before they got up. John kissed Sherlock goodbye and they went their separate ways.

The day went by too quickly for Sherlock. He'd taken the liberty to drive John, Molly, and Lestrade around until they were suppose to meet back at the PAC. When the bell rang, all four met next to Sherlock's car, parked in the theatre parking lot. They sat for a bit, waiting for the traffic to die down.

"Where do you want to pick up dinner?" Sherlock asked the group.

"Didn't they just built an Italian restaurant over by the swimming complex?" John asked.

"No!" Said everyone else all at once.

"No pizza, or anything of that nature, before show. This is law." Lestrade said from behind Sherlock.

"Why no pizza?" John asked, glancing over at Sherlock,

"You'll throw up. It's a guarantee." Molly said.

"While on this topic, text the cast and remind them of that. Actors are stupid." Sherlock said turning his head to Molly, who sat behind John.

"Gotcha."

Sherlock pulled the car out of the parking lot and stopped by a fast foot restaurant for the group. They ate in the parking lot of the restaurant because going inside was too much work.

"I'm surprised you guys are still together after tech week. When me and Sherlock are cooped in there, we couldn't even hold a normal conversation without exploding on each other," Lestrade said as he stuffed a fry in his mouth.

"Mmm that's because I don't like you," Sherlock said smirking in the mirror. "Also because I can't get mad at John when fucks up. He doesn't know the board like you do, I have permission to yell at you."

"I think I did pretty okay," John said. Sherlock nodded and took a sip of his drink.

"How good of a kisser is Sherlock?" Molly asked.

Sherlock quickly jutted forward and almost chocked on the drink in his mouth. John laughed and said, "Not bad. In fact, it's quite nice."

"Really? I thought he'd be bad. He doesn't talk to many people and is alone most of the time." Lestrade said smiling.

"Aw don't make him sound pathetic," Molly said slapping Lestrade in the shoulder.

The group arrived at the school early, which was always a good thing. Sherlock helped Molly, Lestrade, John, and a couple of stage-hands preset. Sherlock and John skipped to the booth and preset the lights as well. At the end of the preparations the group of four met in the black box.

They set up four chairs and started to play board games, stolen from Scott's shelf. Scott had been in the room with them, but had suddenly disappeared when they looked back to the empty desk. The group soon grew bored but heard the actors footsteps outside of the doors.

"Sherlock, turn the lights off I just need a minute." Molly said taking a deep breath.

"I second that," Lestrade said. Sherlock sympathized with him since he'd be taking over the right wing and had to deal with many people at once.

Sherlock got up and turned the lights off, making the room pitch black. He walked straight ahead and reached out. He touched John's arm and they both say on the floor next to each other.

This was a techies paradise. For a brief couple of moments, they had peace and serenity. John scooted around and leaned his head on Sherlock's shoulder. Before he turned the lights off, Sherlock saw Molly lay down and spread her arms out, similar to that of making a snow-angel. Sherlock was absolutely sure she was making every precious moment count.

There was a knock at the door and it opened up from behind Sherlock and John. Mr. Scott walked in the doorway and said, "Sherlock and John, get in the booth. People are starting to come in."

The two boys did as instructed. When they got there Sherlock turned the booth lights off and the blue gooseneck lights on. He scanned over the notes one last time, just to triple check everything. Finally, he sat back in his chair and let his nerves roll over themselves.

"You feeling it yet?" John asked.

"Definitely."

There were four knocks on the tech door, Scotts personal signal that they were letting people in. Sherlock sat up and slid over to John. He kissed John's cheek and slid over to his section and to watch the people start to fill in.

"What was that for?" John whispered.

"Break a leg," Sherlock asked. He was fully aware that didn't make sense, nor really answer the question, but it was better than speaking the alternative words and having something horrible happen.

The light from the headset flashed from the corner of his eye and Sherlock placed it on his head.

"Letting people in," Sherlock said pushing the button down.

"Okay," Molly replied.

The lights shining on the black theatre curtains always seemed to mesmerize Sherlock. He stared at the darkened sides of the theatre, just imagining Molly and Lestrade running around trying to get the actors where they belong. Sherlock felt a brush against his back, followed by John's arms hugging around him. He smiled and looked down into his folded hands. Sherlock pulled the mic away from his mouth and kissed John's scalp.

"You nervous?" He asked.

"I was...I am....but I feel like I'm in good hands," John replied.

Sherlock smiled.

"I love you," Sherlock whispered.

John's head raised from his shoulder. A kiss was placed on Sherlock's back, followed by, "I love you too."

This time, there were four quieter knocks on the tech booth door. Scott's cue for Sherlock to let Molly and Lestrade know the audience was ready. John swayed back to the soundboard and Sherlock flipped the mic back to his mouth.

"Clear," He said.

There was a pause for a moment. Sherlock heard some brief shuffling and multiple soft voices coming from farther away.

"Clear," Molly replied back.

The lights of the house go out...

The curtain opens...


	12. Epilogue

Black out...

The curtains close...

Sherlock sat back in his seat. He let the clapping and cheering from the audience drowned out his senses. This was his appreciation, his shining moment.

Opening night had gone by smoothly. Techies backstage had quietly moved set pieces during the blackouts and Molly had no apparent trouble with anything major. Mrs. Hudson was proud, but excepted the same for the next four nights.

John sat beside him also basking in the applause. The curtains flew back open and Sherlock slid up a slide to put most of the front lights on to light up most of the stage. During curtain call, all the actors were on stage and were taking their bows. The end of curtain call was Sherlock's favorite part. All the actors were standing in one line as they clapped and pointed to the side where Molly was, then back to the tech booth, and finally took their last bow as a whole before running back off. The curtains closed one last time and that marked the end of the first show. John spun in his chair and grabbed Sherlock's face and kissed him.

The two enjoyed the moment. Both of them had worked so hard to put this together and in the end created something wonderful. Molly's voice came from Sherlock's headset, asking the boys to come backstage and help put away the set. They ignored her for a moment before pulling away and smiling at each other.

They held hands as they walked down the crowded hallway and pushed passed actors, still in full costume, wanting to see friends and family.

The techies picked up set and props and extra or unused gaff tape on the stage. The stage was quiet compared to the two hours of music and singing they had endured, which was perfectly okay with all of them.

After the excitement had dwindled down, it was only the techies left sitting in the black box. Mr. Scott sat at a desk and tapped away at his phone. Molly looked around the black walls and took a deep breath before saying goodnight and leaving. Sherlock and John decided they'd better go too. They walked down the hallway together without saying a word. When the two stepped outside into the brisk night, John turned and said,

"I see why you do this."

"Appreciation. Applause. And at long last, the spotlight. It's what makes it all worth it."

**Author's Note:**

> [You can find me here on Tumblr!](http://pinkunicornwastaken.tumblr.com/)


End file.
